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Friday, 24 December 2010

The last train to somewhere a long way from home the journey began like that of ages ago but thankfully there was room at the inn.

The arrival will be late and they already know the eccentric and very particular guest will arrive at just the eleventh hour.

The Christmas tree stands alone in a corner, acquired for the memory and set down for the season but decorations are a labour of love, done with the banter of placements and replacements, adjustments made for all sorts compromises of love and harmony, out of the heart and in the company of lovers.

The presents you share are wrapped and placed at the foot of the tree to be opened on Boxing Day for the truly posh or Christmas Day for those who aspire.

Let them rest

As the time drew near to board the train, the expiation was complete, let dead lovers rest, let their memory remain fond but give up the embrace of that which is gone.

Set their spirits free to roam the lands of the great beyond unbound by the grief and the loss of those that were left to mourn. Release them to their eternal repose and start the rest of your life.

The mourning is complete, the living have buried the dead and now remain to come alive again to joy, to happiness and to new loves and lovers.

Like one old flame did say, knowing that strange tendency, not an invite was offered but advice was given, find something to do and done let loneliness become the reality of your being alone.

Maybe one is now ready to find someone new, let the new adventure begin.